


the crown ain't worth much

by the_ruined_earth_sagelord



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Feelings Realization, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, we got FEELINGS to explore lol, y'all gonna have to wait for the smut tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-03-11 23:09:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13534509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ruined_earth_sagelord/pseuds/the_ruined_earth_sagelord
Summary: The square was quiet. No one spoke, and a slight wind blew in from the harbor, rustling Zuko’s robes. The sunlight touched upon them all, and a great calm fell over the city.“He is here,” Zuko said softly. He could feel it. It was like the entire Fire Nation had grown warmer, lighter. Like the very world knew the One who’d saved it was nearby.The one who’d saved him./ / /Five years after the end of the Hundred Years War, Firelord Zuko and Avatar Aang both have their scars, but together they wear them like crowns. Though cracked and scarred, they are mended gold, whole as they are, complete and glowing in the light of their love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [byesweetheart (ConstantComment)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstantComment/gifts).



> So of course this is for Ava because we've spent so much time sobbing together over the undervalued beauty that is ZukAang. I've never written for Avatar: The Last Airbender before (which is an unbelievable shame, given how much I love the series to this day) so bear with me on this! And thanks as always for reading <3

 

 

 

It was spring when Firelord Zuko, son of Ozai and Ursa, Crown Prince of the Fire Nation, at last returned to the royal city from his annual liaison to the Earth Kingdom. The past five-and-a-half years had been hard on the whole world, but particularly on the young Firelord. He was only twenty, almost twenty-one, and already, so much of the world had changed in the wake of the fire Nation’s assault upon the Earth Kingdom. There was so much that needed to be rebuilt, so many years of prejudice and hatred to put behind them, so many bonds of trust that needed to be forged and reforged. Zuko’s father had left an indelible mark on the world. It would take time to heal.

_His father…_

Inside his palanquin, Zuko curled his fingers into the folds of his robes as his bearers carried him down the ship’s gangplank to the grounds outside the palace. Large crowds had gathered in the harbor to welcome their Firelord home, and the ship’s captain was throwing a fit about security. Much to the captain’s chagrin, Zuko insisted on being seen by people wherever he went. His palanquin was uncovered—he refused to hide behind curtains. He refused to hide the face his people needed to see, needed to believe in.

Zuko raised one hand to his left cheek, touching it gently. He suddenly remembered himself in a dark cave of crystals, miles below a great city, a young waterbender shouting at him about the face of her enemy.

_My face…_

Yes, his father had left many marks on the world.

The bearers brought him swiftly down the gangplank, then proceeded towards the palace at the heart of the royal city. The young Firelord waved to the crowds outside his palanquin, a little embarrassed at the number of young women screaming his name and throwing themselves at the line of guards. Fortunately, the captain’s soldiers kept the Firelord’s fans at a respectably safe distance. Zuko only shook his head, and he blew the hair out of his face.

As he was marched through the city, a messenger approached the line of guards. He was allowed through, and the young man quickly caught up to the palanquin, jogging beside it to keep pace. As he was unable to prostrate himself while moving, he put his hands together in the formal hand symbol and bowed his head. “Firelord Zuko,” he said. “Forgive this intrusion…”

Zuko waved a hand lazily, sitting back in his cushions. “Not at all, Lee.” He recognized the messenger from the palace. The young man was usually running around from one place to another. He was a trustworthy aide.

Lee bowed his head again. “We’d received word he would be on his way, but he arrived a little earlier than expected, Your Excellency, and we haven’t prepared—”

Zuko sat up, frowning. “He? Hold on, Lee, who’s here? Who comes to the Firelord’s palace uninvited?”

Lee hesitated. He glanced at the road ahead to make sure he didn’t run into any of the guards or loose arms sticking out from the cheering crowd. “Well, my lord,” he huffed, turning back to Zuko. “The Avatar.”

Zuko’s breath caught in his throat.

Outside, the cheers grew dim in the background, the crowds disappeared, Lee’s voice faded, and all Zuko could feel was the sunlight. It broke through the clouds above, falling on his face, warming his hands clutching tight to the edges of the palanquin. His skin grew warm, like a great fire was building within, a burst of energy and light.

“—Yu Dao province,” Lee was saying, “wants to discuss the movement of Fire Nation troops out of—”

“Aang is here?” Zuko interrupted, not hearing a word the man had said.

“Yes, Excellency. Avatar Aang arrived just a day ago.”

“The Avatar has been here a day,” Zuko said, looking directly into Lee’s eyes, “and nobody  _told_  me?”

Lee cringed, bowing his head while jogging. “I apologize, sir, but—”

Zuko held up a hand. “Stop!” he shouted.

The palanquin bearers, though surprised, halted at once. Lee paused with them. The soldiers holding people back glanced over the shoulders. Even the crowd seemed to hesitate for a moment, watching, waiting to see what their young ruler was going to do.

Zuko stepped out of the palanquin.

Almost at once, every single person gasped, then dropped to the ground, prostrating themselves before Zuko. Even in their fervor, no one in the crowd would dare stand in the presence of their Firelord.

A soldier hurried forward. “Firelord Zuko, Your Excellency, please, for your safety—”

Zuko turned to the soldier, his eyes narrowed. The man dropped at once, bowing.

The square was quiet. No one spoke, and a slight wind blew in from the harbor, rustling Zuko’s robes. The sunlight touched upon them all, and a great calm fell over the city.

“He  _is_  here,” Zuko said softly. He could  _feel_  it. It was like the entire Fire Nation had grown warmer, lighter. Like the very world knew the One who’d saved it was nearby.

The one who’d saved  _him_.

Later, the soldier who’d approached Zuko would tell people he actually saw the Firelord smile.

Zuko abruptly pulled his robes over his head, tossing them into his palanquin. They’d only get burned up and in his way. Despite their prostration and respect, several people in the crowd screamed when they saw him shirtless. He faced the palace. “Catch up with me later,” he said over his shoulder to his bearers. “Sorry, but a palanquin is too slow.”

Then he crouched, and he thrust both hands out behind him. Fire blasted from his palms. He shot up and forward, skated over the heads of the crowd, and flew the rest of the way to the front door of his palace.

 

•

 

Zuko threw open the palace doors, ignoring the servants and Imperial Firebenders who scurried up to him trying to offer help or service. He brushed past them into the first atrium. “Where is he?” he snapped at one of the servants as he marched towards the guest wing of the palace. He passed red marble pillars and hanging scrolls of past Firelords. “Where’s the Avatar?”

“Your Excellency, the Avatar is, uh, not that way,” the elderly man stammered. Zuko paused, turning back. “Lord Aang wished to—”

“Don’t call him that,” Zuko said, giving the man an odd look. He tried not to laugh at the thought of all his servants gushing over Aang—the “simple monk”—calling him stuff like  _Lord_. “The Avatar is above such titles,” Zuko explained, a little gentler.

The servant bowed his head. “The Avatar,” he continued, “wished to stay somewhere, ah,  _closer_  to you, Your Excellency.”

Zuko frowned. He started walking back to the center atrium at the front of the palace. “So he’s not in the guest chambers?”

“No, sir, no he definitely isn’t.”

“Well, where is he?” Zuko demanded.

The servant sighed. “He’s in… _your_  chambers, my lord.”

Zuko stopped walking.

Behind him, the servants cringed. The Imperial Firebenders took a step back.

Then Zuko laughed, and all the anxiety of his recent trip, all the worry and stress melting away at once. He shook his head, a smile flickering across his face. “Of course he is,” he said under his breath.

“My lord, I don’t wish to insult, but it is not  _proper_ …”

Zuko glanced over his shoulder at the servant. “You do insult,” he said, cutting the man off bluntly, and the servant bowed his head at once. “Did you know that before I was Firelord, I camped out on deserted islands and abandoned temples with the Avatar?” Zuko asked, the ghost of an amused smile at his lips. “I’d rather the Avatar be by my side, than send him all the way across the palace.” He grinned then, fully, as if at some private joke. “How will I make sure he’s doing hot-squats from my room?”

“H-hot…squats, Excellency?” the servant asked, his face growing redder, clearly trying not to burst into a fit about “propriety.” All Zuko’s servants and advisors seemed to want to do was coach him on how to be Firelord. As if they still didn’t trust him to do the job after all this time. “Are you…his  _teacher_?”

Zuko snorted. “Of course I am. Who else is going to teach that airhead firebending?”

“Sir, it is beneath you to—”

Zuko turned sharply, and the servants and Imperial Firebenders at once dropped to their knees.

Zuko looked down at the servant, his patience wearing thin. “The only thing beneath me,” he said quietly, placing his right hand on the man’s head, “is you, right now. When it comes to Avatar Aang, nothing is beneath me. Understood?”

The man gulped, and he nodded underneath Zuko’s hand. “Yes, Firelord Zuko.”

Zuko turned away brusquely, clutching his hand tightly to his bare chest as he stalked off to his chambers. Where had that come from? That confidence, that…ferocity?

He shuddered. Sometimes, he was afraid there was more of his father in him than he thought. He paused in the center of the atrium, and he looked up at the hanging scroll portraits. His father’s hung right next to the newly installed scroll, Zuko’s own portrait as Firelord. His hand—the hand he’d threatened the servant with—trembled. Maybe the servants coached him so much because they didn’t think he was worthy of the throne. Maybe it was a mistake for him to be the Firelord. Surely there was someone better. Someone who’d not been tainted by his father’s malice.

_Unquestionable honor? But I’ve made so many mistakes._

Zuko’s hand grew steady. Looking upon the portrait of his father’s face, he remembered his uncle’s voice.

 _Yes, you have. You struggled. You suffered. But you have always followed your own path. You’ve restored your_ own _honor. And only_ you _can restore the honor of the Fire Nation._

Zuko stared at the depiction of his father hanging before him. “I follow my own path,” he said to himself, his voice a hushed breath in the atrium. “There is nothing of you inside me,” he whispered to the picture of his father.

Then he turned, and walked away.

He didn’t look back.

 

•

 

Zuko wondered how many of his own doors he’d have to keep bursting into today. He threw open the doors to the royal chambers, the personal rooms for the Firelord. Recently, they were empty a lot. Zuko had been on his liaison to the Earth Kingdom, and Mai hardly stayed in the palace anymore. She was busy traveling around the Fire Nation, studying to rework the prison system. She’d even visited some of the ex-colonies to fight for the release of alleged criminals, working with the Earth Kingdom government and ex-Fire Nation governors to release wrongfully imprisoned earthbenders now that the Hundred Years War was over.

Mai was doing a lot of good for the Fire Nation. Which was why Zuko had decided they should take a break from their relationship.

Mai had thrown a fit, of course, what with happened the last time he’d ended things (poorly). The servants were still finding shuriken embedded in the walls. But Zuko eventually calmed her down enough to tell her he didn’t want to break up—never again. But he did want to give her time to discover herself, so she could be her own person. Zuko knew the politics of being the wife of the Firelord; they’d consumed his own mother. He didn’t want that to happen to Mai. Zuko wanted her to be able to be herself first.

Of course, Mai had always been strong. But Zuko convinced her that one of the best—and hardest—things he’d ever done had been going out on his own for a while.

“You’ll learn about yourself,” he’d told her. “Who you are, and what you want. And if you still want me when you come back, you’ll know right where to find me. I’ll be waiting with a plate full of fruit tarts just for you.”

She’d called him a few more names, and there had been tears. But she knew he said these things out of love. And she’d eagerly jumped at the chance once she decided to reform the prison systems. She was doing so much good, for the Fire Nation, and for herself.

But now, throwing open the doors and entering the royal chambers after a long trip away from home, Zuko felt the slight twinge of loneliness when he imagined the empty rooms.

And then he saw Aang.

The Avatar sat in the middle of the room, on the floor instead of on any of the plush couches or ottomans. He flicked little bursts of air from his fingers at his flying-lemur, Momo. He was smiling, his eyes alight, his clear laugh ringing like the glass bells in the palace banquet hall. He wore traditional Air Nomad clothing: the long, ceremonial yellow robes and a string of meditation beads around his neck. The formal clothing of a fully-realized airbending monk.

When Zuko walked in, Aang’s eyes turned from Momo to the door instantly. His face lit up even more than it already was, and he sprang up on a little puff of air beneath him. “Zuko!”

And all the loneliness, all the hesitation and doubt, all his anxiety—all of it vanished from Zuko’s heart, like a passing storm, like a drifting cloud.

Like a gust of wind.

Zuko ran forward to meet Aang, who leapt for him at the same moment. Aang yelped, Zuko cried out, and they tumbled into each other in their excitement, a tangle of limbs and robes and beads. They both howled and giggled, trying to disentangle themselves as they helped each other up, then sprang into each other’s arms at once. Zuko wrapped his arms around the rough cloth of Aang’s robes, hugging him close. “Aang,” he said softly. “I’ve missed you so much.”

Aang hummed, happily clinging to him. Then suddenly, he pulled away, holding Zuko out in front of him. “Uh, Firelord Zuko,” he said, holding back a laugh. “You’re not wearing a shirt.”

Zuko looked down at himself.  _His robes…the palanquin…_

“Ah,” he said after a moment. “You’re right. That’s…hm. Hold on.”

He clapped his hands together. At once, two servants entered the room. If they had anything to say about their Firelord being shirtless while embracing a strange visitor in the middle of his room, they held their tongues. “Yes, Excellency?”

“I’ve lost my robes, Qín Lí,” Zuko said to the one who’d spoken. “Fetch me something to wear so I’m not half-naked in front of my guest.” He noticed Aang’s blush, and he smirked at him. “And bring something for the Avatar to eat. No meat,” he added, nodding to Aang. Aang smiled, bowing his head slightly.

“A bowl of cherries and cream as a refreshing snack, then, Firelord?” Qín Lí offered.

Zuko glanced at Aang. Aang nodded, grinning. “That’s perfect,” Zuko said.

“Wonderful, Excellency.” The two servants bowed out of the room.

Once they were gone, Aang leapt at Zuko again. He hung on Zuko’s arm and beamed. “Zuko,” he said. “I’ve really missed you! How is everything going here in the Fire Nation?”

Zuko sighed, and—shaking himself from Aang’s grip—he threw himself down on the couch near the door, sinking into the pillows. “It’s like I’m building the entire country up from scratch. There’s so many old doctrines to overturn, so many traditions that need to break. Part of the problem that led to the war was intense nationalism, and while I want people to be proud Fire Nation citizens, I don’t want that kind of blind devotion anymore. It’s time for people to choose for themselves…”

He glanced at Aang. The Avatar was staring off into space, watching Momo circle Zuko’s hairbrush on the bureau. Zuko smiled. Of course, he was preaching to the choir. All life was sacred to Aang. In Aang’s eyes, every individual should obviously be their own person. In Aang’s eyes, every individual person held dignity.

_Even my father’s life… The Avatar spared even my father._

Zuko chewed on the inside of his cheek absentmindedly. He couldn’t help it. Every time he saw Aang, he could only think of the rage he’d felt towards his father for so many years. His father, who had dueled him, scarred him, split his soul. His father, who had devastated the balance of the world. His father, who he hated.

And then Aang would meet his gaze, and all that rage disappeared into purifying light.

It was like when he’d learned the true art of firebending from the dragons Ran and Shaw. Fire was not rage or hatred, but energy. Light. Life.

Aang saw that same light inside every person. Even Ozai.

Zuko smiled, coming back to himself. He watched Aang for a moment more before clearing his throat. Aang snapped to attention, looking away from Momo on the bureau. “What happened?” he said quickly. Then he blushed, embarrassed. “Sorry, Excellency, I didn’t mean to drift off like that.”

Zuko frowned. He leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “You don’t need to call me ‘Excellency,’ Aang.”

Aang smiled softly. “I should, though. You’re the Firelord, Zuko! Even though we’re friends, I should respect that.”

Zuko shook his head, chuckling. “You still don’t get it sometimes, do you? Aang, you’re the Avatar. If anything, I should be the one to pay respect to you.”

Aang frowned. “But I don’t want you to do that. I’m still me; just because I’m the Avatar doesn’t mean—”

“And just because I’m Firelord doesn’t mean I’m not still me, either. You don’t need to go around calling me stupid titles.” Zuko got up and crossed the room to his bureau. Momo chittered at him and licked his fingers when he offered his hand to the little lemur. He scratched behind Momo’s ears, smiling at his content chirps. “We’re friends first, Aang. Always. Before any titles, we’re friends first.”

He looked at Aang. How many times had they had this conversation over the last five years? Sometimes he thought Aang was too apologetic. He bent too much to other people, deferred to them. He was very respectful, but he was also the Avatar. Honor went both ways, and Aang, more than anyone, was most deserving of people’s respect.

“My great-grandfather,” Zuko said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the bureau. “Firelord Sozin thought Avatar Roku should have gone along with his war just because he was a Fire Nation citizen and should’ve stayed loyal to his Firelord. It’s exactly  _because_  you’re the Avatar that you don’t need to worry about loyalty to any one nation or ruler. Instead…” He walked over to where Aang sat and grabbed him up by the robes. Aang yelped, but he saw Zuko’s smile and laughed. Zuko wrestled with him for a moment, then got Aang’s head under one arm and dug his knuckles into the top of his shaved head, making Aang yowl like an alleycat.

“Instead,” Zuko said, letting him go with a grin, “try listening to your friends for a change.”

Aang rubbed the top of his head, scowling at Zuko. But he couldn’t hide the glimmer of light in his eyes, the glint of humor. “Okay, okay,” he said, fake sighing. “Geeze, no need to get so violent.”

Zuko laughed, just as the servants returned with a fresh robe for him and a bowl of cherries and cream. They’d also brought a pitcher of chilled lemon-water and two cups of tea. They set the refreshments on a small side table next to the couch Zuko had sat on, then helped Zuko into his robes. Aang watched—fascinated, Zuko figured, by how he didn’t have to do anything as the servants slipped the loose clothes over his body for him, then tied them neatly at the waist. “Have something to eat,” Zuko said to Aang as Qín Lí helped him into his robes, waving to the bowl of fruit and the cups of tea.

Aang jumped up and grabbed some cherries and a finger-swipe of cream. He popped the cherries in his mouth one at a time, smiling delightedly at the sweet juices mixing with the smooth cream. “Delicious,” he sighed, smacking his lips and sipping quietly from his cup of tea.

Zuko sat on the couch and helped himself to his tea and cherries. Aang glided forward on a little puff of air. “Scooch over,” he said, hopping on to the couch next to Zuko. “And don’t hog all the cherries!”

“Will there be anything else, Excellency?” one of the servants asked.

Zuko smacked Aang’s greedily searching hand away from the cherries in his own palm. “No,” he said to the servants. “That’ll be all, thank you.” He paused, then added, “Make sure no one disturbs us for the rest of the day. I’m sure the Avatar needs to rest after his journey. We’ll retire for today.”

The two men bowed, then left, closing the doors behind them.

“Zuko, I got here yesterday,” Aang said. He was making a cherry spin in his hand with airbending. The stupid marble trick he kept showing Zuko, but this time with a piece of fruit. “ _Someone_  made me wait,” Aang added, eyeing Zuko cheekily. “But I’m all rested up! No need to retire so early.”

Zuko leaned back into the couch, throwing his arms over the sides. This meant his left arm was behind Aang’s shoulders, if he were to lean back as well. But Aang sat crosslegged on the cushion, leaning forward and chucking cherries at Momo, who was catching them out of the air. So Zuko figured this was safe.

“I know,” he said. “But  _I’m_  tired. I just got back. And I’ve missed you a lot! And I…just want you to myself for a while before I have to go out and do all my public, official, Firelord stuff with you in front of the whole palace.”

Aang lowered his hand, still holding the cherry he’d been about to toss to Momo. His face was flushed a little. “Oh,” he said, his voice small. He looked at Zuko. He smiled.

“Good, ‘cuz I wanted you to myself, too, before I have to do all my public, official, Avatar stuff with you in front of the whole palace.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

Zuko stared at him. Then he laughed, throwing his head back and really laughing. Aang giggled, then cracked up, and their laughter filled the room like the sunlight filtering in through the lowered blinds on the window.

“Well,” Aang said once they both caught their breath. “Since we’re both so  _thrilled_  about doing official business, I think we should put it off until tomorrow. Maybe I  _am_  a little tired…” He grinned, chuckling.

Then he leaned back into the couch, and the back of his head rested on Zuko’s arm.

Zuko quelled the slight shiver that ran through his body, and he turned his head to look down at Aang.

They were only three years apart in age, barely. Aang had always been slight in build, smaller than Zuko. But he’d filled out over the last five years. His shoulders were a little wider, his arms a little stronger. Even with the robes covering nearly his entire body, it was still obvious.

It wasn’t like the changes were sudden. It wasn’t like Zuko hadn’t seen Aang for years and years. The gang still stuck together, and met up very frequently. But they were all heroes who’d ended a war of monumental importance. They were busy people. Sokka and Katara were rebuilding the Southern Water Tribe. Toph was teaching metalbending to select agents in Ba Sing Se. They could all go months without being in the same place at one time.

But they made sure to do it, to meet often, to stay in touch, to stay friends. They couldn’t let go of each other, not after everything they’d all through together.

So why was Zuko suddenly so aware of Aang’s physical changes?

Well, he knew, of course.

“Katara and I are taking a break from each other,” Aang suddenly said.

Zuko felt the room around him grow very, very quiet.

“Why?” he asked softly. Then, immediately after, “Are you alright?”

Aang smiled gratefully. “I’m fine.” The back of his head rubbed against Zuko’s sleeve as he turned. He looked at Zuko, smiling that sad, soft smile. “She was the one who suggested it, actually. She said I needed to be free to become the Avatar I needed to be. She said she’ll wait for me until I become who I  _am_ , not who I think I’m  _supposed_  to be.”

Zuko lowered his head. It sounded like what he’d told Mai. “Katara is very wise, sometimes,” he said.

“Sometimes?”

“Well, there was that one time, with the Southern Raiders…”

“And whose fault was that, again? I specifically remember  _you_  being the one to encourage her!”

Zuko pushed away Aang’s finger that he was sticking in his face. “Whatever,” he said. “It’s in the past. How are you feeling about this…break?”

Aang shrugged. He curled up his legs underneath him and huddled in closer to Zuko. Zuko held his breath, then slowly lowered his arm from the back of the couch to wrap it around Aang’s shoulders. Aang seemed to appreciate the comfort, and he leaned against Zuko’s chest.

“Girls are confusing,” Aang sighed.

“Yeah,” Zuko said. “But we love them.”

“We do,” Aang agreed quietly.

Zuko squeezed his arm around Aang a little tighter. Aang really loved Katara a lot. Zuko knew this must be killing him. He felt his own soul ache for the two of them. They were his friends, and he didn’t want either of them to get hurt.

“Do you think,” Aang said, his voice still quiet. “Do you think you can love more than one person?”

The sunlight filtering through the windows was growing a hazy golden-orange as the sun outside sank towards the horizon. Momo lay curled up in a patch of carpet warmed by the sunlight. Cherries littered the floor around him. His tail curled in and out as he snored softy, in and out, in and out.

_Breathe, Firelord. In and out. In and out._

“What?” Zuko whispered, his voice as quiet as Aang’s, as if what they spoke of might alert the entire palace to their presence.

Aang looked up at Zuko. “Can you love more than one person at a time?”

Zuko licked his lips. They felt very dry. So did his throat. He swallowed. “Do…do you?”

“I think so,” Aang said. “They’re very close to me, and very important to me. I used to think we’d never even become friends, but then we did. Best friends. We went through a lot together. We learned a lot together, and from each other. But I’m afraid…afraid they don’t feel the same about me.”

“Maybe you should tell them,” Zuko rasped, suddenly extremely conscious of his arm wrapped around Aang. He didn’t pull it away, though. That would be too obvious.

“Maybe I’ve tried already,” Aang said. He wasn’t looking at Zuko. He watched how the sunlight fell into the room: on the lush red carpet; the silken bedsheets; the crimson curtains on the bedposts; the dark cherrywood furniture; the golden tiles around the room’s baseboard. “Maybe I’m just too afraid they’ll reject me.”

Zuko reached up with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around Aang’s shoulders. He touched Aang’s chin gently, turning his face towards him. Aang’s eyes were wide, their storm-cloud gray overwhelming him with how terrified they looked, how  _ancient_.

“Aang—”

At that moment, the doors burst open. An Imperial Firebender marched in, dropping to his knees in the doorway.

And Zuko and Aang pulled away from each other. Quickly.

“What is this?” Zuko demanded. He rose from the couch an cleared his throat. “I specifically ordered that no one—”

“Firelord Zuko, forgive me,” the Imperial Firebender interrupted, his voice echoing within his helmet. “But it’s urgent, sir. The New Ozai Society—your father’s supporters—they’re rallying outside the palace gates.” He raised his bowed head.

“They’re threatening to blow up the city.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sagechan.tumblr.com
> 
> I know this says "Slow Burn" but I really don't want it to be very long. Maybe a couple chapters, that's it. But I really wanted to get this part out! We'll see what happens :')
> 
> Also, credits! The title "the crown ain't worth much" comes from a book of poems of the same name by Hanif Abdurraqib! A really great poet and a very good human being! :D


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Was this explosion the work of the New Ozai Society? That was troubling—Aang had thought the group finally disbanded. Apparently, they still had a presence in the Fire Nation.
> 
> Just then, another explosion went off. The surrounding buildings shook. A window shattered. Several people in the crowd screamed. Aang looked up—another pillar of smoke, close by.
> 
> A man approached him, holding a bucket of water from the fountain. “We can finish up here, Avatar,” he said, following Aang’s gaze to the second pillar of smoke. “You need to go.” The man let out a shaky laugh. “You really are a force to be reckoned with, huh?”
> 
> Aang bowed his head. “The Firelord is a force to be reckoned with,” he said, hoping to instill a little confidence among the people in their leader. He knew Zuko was doing everything he could to quell the threat. “I’m just trying to keep people safe. Watch, he’ll save us all.”
> 
> / / /
> 
> Five years after the end of the Hundred Years War, Firelord Zuko and Avatar Aang both have their scars, but together they wear them like crowns. Though cracked and scarred, they are mended gold, whole as they are, complete and glowing in the light of their love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyy remember this? Lol me too. Here's some kind of continuation :') Thanks for all the comments and love, it helps a lonely writer keep writing lmao <3

 

 

 

Aang followed Zuko through the palace. The building was abuzz with activity as guards mobilized around the nobility in protective squads. Imperial Firebenders started to fall in line behind Zuko and Aang, an honor guard of the most skilled firebenders in the royal city.

An attendant approached Zuko and said something in his ear, Zuko never once breaking stride. Aang tried to hear, but the man was whispering. Zuko nodded, then waved him off. The man stopped and bowed, letting the honor guard pass him.

Ahead, someone was shouting for a medic. Zuko barked a command; at once, two Imperial Firebenders detached from their main group and ran off deeper into the palace, supposedly to get help.

The Firelord marched on, his expression a mask of rage.

And didn’t like the look on his friend’s face. He reached out to touch the Firelord’s sleeve. “Zuko, what’s going on?”

Zuko jerked his arm away from Aang’s fingers, as if scalded by hot water. He halted in the middle of the hallway and turned, like he was just seeing Aang for the first time. Then he looked to the Imperial Firebenders. “Someone escort the Avatar back to my chambers! I want four firebenders protecting him. Now!”

“Zuko, wait! I can help!” Aang protested. He looked uneasily up at the four large men coming towards him, arms extended in a nonthreatening—but obvious—gesture: _Move_.

Zuko looked into Aang’s eyes. For a moment, the rage seemed to vanish, and all that was left was a weary resignation. Then his face steeled again, and he set his jaw. “Don’t worry about this, Aang. It’s just some internal trouble. I’ll fill you in later. Please, just…” He turned away, his shoulders squared, broad. Loaded with the weight of a nation. “Please, just stay where it’s safe.”

Aang watched him and the other Imperial Firebenders march off towards the palace gates. Then he let himself be taken inside, his mind whirling, his pulse racing, his heart aching for his friend.

 

•

 

Zuko stood before the gates to his palace. He was angry.

They were giant fences of decorated wrought-iron with swirling ivy and leaf patterns, a gift of good faith from the Earth Kingdom six months after his coronation. Zuko had replaced the old, stark, straight-barred gate with the new one almost immediately. He took great pride in the gate, as it showed everyone who entered his palace that he was willing to discard even pieces of his own home in order to be a force of balance and positive change in the world.

Now, he stood before his gate, arms crossed, feet planted wide.

And Zuko was angry.

“What do you rebels want?” he demanded, shouting through the gate at the crowd on the other side rumbling like a volcano ready to burst.

A woman stepped forward. “Well, if it isn’t the Firelord himself, gracing us with his presence.” She sneered. “His _illegal_ presence.” There were jeers and shouts of support from the group behind her.

“Ko Li,” Zuko said, his eyes narrowing at her. “I’m not surprised _you’re_ leading this pathetic show.”

Her eyes flashed dangerously. “Watch yourself, betrayer,” she hissed. That was the New Ozai Society’s favorite insult to use against him: _betrayer_. They felt he was the true traitor, and believed only his father deserved to sit upon the throne.

Zuko inhaled deeply, trying to maintain his center.

_Will I never be free of him?_

“I’m told you’re throwing around threats about blowing up my city,” Zuko said, staring hard at Ko Li through the gate’s bars. “Stop this ridiculous bluff, Ko Li. Go home. I don’t want to deal with your protests today. Your group has already tried to kill me before, and we all know how that went. I could have you all arrested for conspiracy, as accomplices.”

Ko Li scowled. But then her eyes lit up, and she smiled. “We’re not bluffing this time, _Firelord_ ,” she said. Behind her, the crowd of dissidents cheered for Ozai and booed at Zuko and whooped for their general sense of pride. Someone blew into a small horn. Bloodlust was in the air.

“This time,” Ko Li whispered, her face pressed close to the iron gate, “we’re going to destroy you, betrayer, _even if it means taking out the entire city_.”

And at that moment, the first explosion went off.

 

•

 

In Zuko’s bedroom, Aang sat on the Firelord’s bed, his feet swinging over the side. Momo sat curled on his lap, chittering quietly at him.

“I know, Momo,” Aang whispered. “Normally I would, but these are Zuko’s men now. I can’t just go blowing through them like enemy soldiers anymore. They’re my friend’s soldiers.”

Momo chirped. His ears flattened.

“That _could_ work,” Aang said thoughtfully. “But I don’t have enough water.”

Momo chirped again, then uncurled and stretched his winged arms, yawning. He settled back into Aang’s lap, closing his eyes.

“Momo, that’s it!” Aang whispered excitedly. “You’re a genius, buddy. Why didn’t I think of that?”

Momo chittered softly in his sleep.

“I know, I know. I’d already thought of it, I just needed to talk it out. Thank you for your wisdom, Momo.”

Aang slipped his hands under the lemur’s body and scooped him up. He pressed a kiss to the soft fur of his head, then placed him gently on the pillow. Aang was just wondering if that was the pillow Zuko rested his head on when he heard something like thunder.

One of the Imperial Firebenders ran into the room. Aang turned to him. “What was that?”

“We don’t know, sir. We think it might have been an explosion.”

Aang sprang up quickly and hurried to the bedroom’s large picture window. Beyond the palace grounds, in the royal city below, a pillar of smoke rose into the air. Guards directly below the window pointed. Someone shouted. Aang looked to the sky. Birds were flying away from the smoke, wheeling higher into the sky, away, away, away.

Aang took the prayer beads from around his neck and tossed them on a small puff of air to rest on the bed. “I’m going,” he said to the Imperial Firebender. He started pulling the long ceremonial robe over his head.

“I can’t let you go, er, my lord,” the Firebender said, still not sure how to address the Avatar in a royal sense.

Aang got the robe over this head. Underneath, he wore simpler monk clothing, tighter on his body than the loose ceremonial shawl. Combat-ready attire. He threw the ceremonial robes in the air, in front of the Firebender’s face, then blasted it with a gust of wind from a flick of his wrist. The bundle of heavy clothing wrapped around the Firebender’s whole head. The man yelped, stumbled backwards, hands flailing. “Help!” he yelled to the other Firebenders outside the door. “Stop the Avatar!”

Aang tried not to grimace at the memory of firebenders shouting those exact same orders during the War. Now, they just wanted to protect him.

But he had something to protect, too.

He skipped back to the window, grabbing the sill. He struggled with the rusted old hinges. It barely budged, but he managed to crack it open. That was enough. He stepped back and raised his hands, just as the other Firebenders burst into the room.

Aang brought his arm down in a quick slice, then struck out with an open palm. An explosion of wind slammed into the window. It flew out and open with a _bang_. The residual gusts bouncing off the wall blew back into the room, shaking the bedposts and knocking down the remaining guards. Aang nodded to Momo, then jumped out the window. He landed lightly and started running at once, heading towards the smoke and the cries for help already drifting to his ears on the wind.

 

•

 

“Ko Li!” Zuko shouted, grabbing the gate. “What have you _done_?”

Above them, a pillar of smoke rose over the city’s skyline from wherever the explosion had struck. They could hear people screaming and wailing already. There was a resounding, horrifying crash as something large came tumbling to the ground.

Ko Li grinned. Her eyes shone with a mad glint. She threw out her arms, twirling in front of the gate. “We will destroy what you have tainted, _Firelord_ ,” she said, her voice dripping with hatred. “Then, from the ashes, we will rebuild the Fire Nation to its former glory, and finish our great mission. Like Phoenix King Ozai himself, we will be reborn!”

Zuko backed away from the gate, staring at her. “You’re insane. You’re all crazy.”

“This is the will of Phoenix King Ozai,” Ko Li snarled. “It is _his_ will!”

“My father,” Zuko hissed, “is locked away, far away. He’s not giving _anyone_ orders anymore. You’re all just fanatics using him to justify destruction!”

At that moment, Zuko realized what his father’s true power was. Even greater than his firebending or tactical skill, or even his leadership as Firelord. He was a symbol. For some, a symbol of fear. For others, like Ko Li and the New Ozai Society, he was a symbol of hope.

If he was ever going to truly defeat his father, he needed to become the same thing. He needed to become the Fire Nation’s new symbol.

One of salvation.

“Tell me where the bombs are,” Zuko demanded.

Ko Li smiled, and Zuko saw there was nothing left of her humanity at all in that smile. She was willing to destroy innocent lives to achieve her goal.

It wasn’t so long ago Zuko had been the same way. And now he was disgusted looking at Ko Li. She was a mirror of something no longer in him. It made him sick to think he’d once been like her.

“Take them,” he ordered the Imperial Firebenders around him. “Arrest every last member of the New Ozai Society. They have committed treason today, attacking their own country.” He looked Ko Li directly in the eyes. “If they wish to try killing me, so be it. But today they betrayed their countrymen, and for that I have no mercy.”

The Imperial Firebenders pushed the gates open, and the New Ozai Society scattered. But the trained Firebenders quickly started rounding them up. Once subdued, they brought the dissidents into the palace for questioning. Ko Li was marched past Zuko, and he watched her go with a cold glare. She only smiled that inhuman smile, her eyes gleaming like she knew a joke he didn’t.

“Start searching for the bombs,” he ordered the rest of the Imperial Firebenders. “We need to diffuse this situation before too many people are harmed. Evacuate the royal city.”

Just then, another explosion went off, a thunderous sound that shook the ground. It was closer. Much closer than the first.

“Go!” Zuko shouted, already running towards the sound of screams, fear clawing at his heart. He prayed he was not too late.

 

•

 

Aang prayed he wasn’t too late. He ran like the wind—literally—and arrived at the source of the smoke. A building in the lower part of the royal city had collapsed into a pillar of flames and rubble, and three more buildings nearby had caught fire. Two carts in the market square were roaring infernos, their dry wood making perfect kindling. 

Men and women were gathered outside in the street. Two firebenders were trying to tame the raging flames of the burning carts before they spread to other buildings. Children ran buckets of water from a fountain in the center of the square to a woman, who threw them on the ruins of the building that had collapsed, trying to douse the source of the fires before it could spread.

Aang hurried up to one of the men standing in front of the collapsed building, ducking as the carts burst forth great tongues of fire and heat. “Is anyone hurt?” he shouted over the roar of the fire.

The man stared at the building, tears and sweat covering his face. “Under the building,” he said, his voice cracking. “My son.”

Aang nodded. “I’ll get him.”

“Wait, kid, it’s even worse inside!”

But Aang was already running to the building. He stopped in front of it, standing still and straight-backed. He closed his eyes and let himself feel the heat, how it raged and burned—Fire had been unleashed, and he was hot and tempered. He wanted to burn. He wanted to live as powerfully as he could, as brightly as he could, even if it meant eating the world until he glistened like embers into nothing. This was fire that destroyed. This was fire without purpose or control. Fire of rage and hatred.

Aang opened his eyes. He breathed in deeply, breathed in the heat, breathed in the fear and the rage and the fury, breathed in the world.

Fire was not hatred.

Fire was life.

And his eyes and tattoos glowed.

A brief flicker of cosmic light as the universe aligned itself through his body, and then it disappeared. Aang touched the power of All, the power of One. The push and pull of the cosmos, the planet’s spin, the water’s ebb, the single leaf falling through the air. He tapped into the almighty flow of the world. His heart ached for the burning wood, for the suffocating air, for the flames choking under the bucket of water. He felt all equally, felt each of their pain. What he wouldn’t give to lessen that pain. What he wouldn’t do to ease that burden.

Then he stepped forward, and the rhythm of the earth shifted under his feet, and the vibrations of the building showed him the single soul trapped within, below the structure. He felt the human presence below, the soul struggling. A human being, a part of that All, a piece of that One. The soul, precious and powerful and so fragile.

And for this he ached most of all.

Aang raised one arm, two fingers extended like a dragon’s head, breathing in deeply. The fire in the building started to vanish as the flames leaned towards Aang’s fingers, sucked into his center of being. He held out his other arm, away from the building. Heat traveled through him and out, leaving his fingers through a cloud of harmless steam, until the flames died completely.

Aang stamped his foot down, punched both fists solidly towards the building and then pulled them back. The ruined stone walls shook, tipped, then blew apart, flying at him. He spread his arms straight out—the walls split around him and the people behind, who watched with growing awe as they began to realize who this boy was. Whispers started to flow, people’s heads turned. The word “Avatar” was on the lips of the crowd. The name “Aang” was on their tongues.

Aang earthbent the rest of the rubble out of the way, stones leaping up at the will ofhis Avatar state-infused power. Suddenly, a voice cried out from beneath the debris. Aang, earthbending two large boulders above his head, turned to the people staring. “Go,” he ordered.

At once, people jumped forward and scrambled over the smoking ruins. The boy’s father and two other men started shoveling rocks out of the way. A woman reached through. A hand clasped hers from below.

And then she pulled the small boy from the rubble, carrying him away from the building.

The crowd let out a collective cry. A few shouted in relief. Someone cheered, “Avatar!”

Aang released the boulders over his head. They crashed to the ground on either side of him. Airbending below his feet, he leapt up, pushed lightly off one boulder towards the other, then jumped from the top of that one high into the air, gathering wind in his fists as he went. He quickly created a tornado below him, sucking the oxygen from the flames on the other three buildings. They sputtered, strained for life, died. The air cooled. The smoke cleared.

Aang dropped gracefully to the street, the tornado dissipating around him. He quickly reached a hand towards the fountain, his limbs supple, his body flowing. His fingers bent and curled, his wrist turned. The water in the fountain rippled, rolled forth like a wave, spilled over the fountain’s edge. It arced over the square, circled his body, and he flowed with it, his limbs moving in smooth circles around him. He directed the current towards the carts. The water coursed through the air, above the crowd, then sprayed down on the carts like a passing storm, like purifying rain.

The carts were doused, their roaring infernos smothered. The flames guttered out. The crowd cheered again, rushing forward to salvage the carts, to bask in the Avatar’s rain. They lifted their faces to the falling water to laugh and cry and pray.

Aang lowered his arms, re-centering. He let out his breath, and he was still.

Was this explosion the work of the New Ozai Society? That was troubling—Aang had thought the group finally disbanded. Apparently, they still had a presence in the Fire Nation.

Just then, another explosion went off. The surrounding buildings shook. A window shattered. Several people in the crowd screamed. Aang looked up—another pillar of smoke, close by.

A man approached him, holding a bucket of water from the fountain. “We can finish up here, Avatar,” he said, following Aang’s gaze to the second pillar of smoke. “You need to go.” The man let out a shaky laugh. “You really are a force to be reckoned with, huh?”

Aang bowed his head. “The Firelord is a force to be reckoned with,” he said, hoping to instill a little confidence among the people in their leader. He knew Zuko was doing everything he could to quell the threat. “I’m just trying to keep people safe. Watch, he’ll save us all.”

Across the square, the father approached the woman tending to his rescued son. Aang watched his shoulders tremble as he tried not to cry. He fell to his knees beside his child, and his head dropped onto the woman’s shoulder. She clasped her hand in his, and together they watched over their boy.

Another explosion rocked the square. Aang took one last look at the small family. Then he started to run, hoping to find more bombs so he could get rid of them, hoping to find more people so he could save them, hoping to find the New Ozai Society so he could stop them.

Hoping to find Zuko, so he could help him.

 

•

 

Imperial Firebenders hurried through the streets, leading their Firelord towards the second explosion. Several soldiers had already arrived and were helping contain the fire and clear rubble away. One of the captains saw the Firelord coming and turned, saluting. Zuko acknowledged her with a nod as he came to stand at her side. He looked up at the burning remains of the granary the bomb had destroyed. Hundreds of kilos of grain and cornmeal had been reduced to ash. Some of the Imperial Firebenders stepped in to help the soldiers move barrels away from the flames and search for anything that may have survived the explosion.

“This doesn’t look good, Firelord,” the captain said grimly, clutching a thin board in her hands. A sheet of parchment was tacked to it, and every few seconds she would take a piece of charcoal from behind her ear to scribble something down.

Zuko nodded. “Was anyone hurt?”

The captain sighed. “Just the granary itself. Which will hurt people in the future, if we can’t make up the lost food.”

Zuko scowled. “Damn,” he muttered. A foreboding sense of weakness crept into his throat like a lump. He wanted to cry, to curl into a ball and let the world keep turning without him. But he wasn’t alone on his disgraced ship anymore, or on the back of a flying bison. He was standing in the streets of his city, in the capitol of his nation, and his people were looking for him to lead, to protect, to save them.

“We’d better just let the granary burn down, Your Majesty,” the captain was saying. “Controlled burn. We can contain it better that way, so it doesn’t spread without expending too much man-power. The food is lost anyway. People will go hungry, but they’ve gone hungry before.”

Zuko looked at her. He felt a strange twinge inside, like a shiver passing over his soul.

_Aang wouldn’t let it burn down_ , he thought. _Katara wouldn’t, Sokka wouldn’t… Probably even Toph wouldn’t. They would look for a way to save it, even one building._

A soldier approached, bowing to Zuko. “Sir,” he said to the captain. “We found the fuse in the basement of the building across the street. If you look at the street, you can see the burnt-up trail of the fuse leading across the road into that window. Yes, that one there. We didn’t find any matches or spark rocks, sir.”

“Firebending, then?”

“That’s what it looks like, sir. Most arsonists leave traces when they set a fire or light a fuse, no matter how small, like gunpowder or matchsticks or crystal fragments. Firebending doesn’t leave any traces, though. You can just walk away after setting a fire and no one’s the wiser. If you want to set up explosions and slip away guerrilla-style, a firebender is your go-to.”

The captain glanced at Zuko. “That means they have at least one firebender, and he has to be at on site whenever the bombs need to be set.”

“It’s probably only one,” Zuko said thoughtfully. “Most of the members of the New Ozai Society were accounted for and watched after they tried assassinating me a while ago. We imprisoned the firebenders because they posed a threat, and the Avatar didn’t want to take their bending away if they could just be put in jail—” He paused. The captain and soldier were staring at him. The captain looked fascinated. The soldier looked downright horrified.

Zuko supposed it _was_ a little odd to talk about people trying to kill him. But then, he was used to that. He’d been used to it for a long, long time.

_Aang would’ve probably tried to make me laugh, not look at me like I just sprouted two heads and was making noises like an armadillo-bear._

He checked himself. He had to stop comparing everyone else to Aang all the time. That wasn’t fair to everyone else. “Ah, anyway,” he said. “Don’t worry, there’s probably only one firebender, since their organization’s actually fallen out of favor and influence. They wouldn’t be able to round up as many firebenders loyal to their cause, especially since most of the nation’s firebenders are accounted for and registered in the navy.”

The captain was shaking her head, smiling, and she let out a slow whistle. “It’s a good thing you’re on _our_ side, Firelord,” she said. “You really know what you’re doing when it comes to seeing through an enemy’s tactics. You’re a force to be reckoned with.”

Zuko smiled nervously. “The Avatar is a force to be reckoned with,” he countered. “I’m just trying to keep people safe. You’ll see, he’ll come and help us.”

_Even though I ordered those guards to keep him in the palace_ , Zuko thought, his lips quirking into a smile. _Aang will come._

“Firelord Zuko,” a voice called. He turned. One of the Imperial Firebenders ran down the street, waving for him. Zuko nodded to him as he approached, and the man bowed quickly, catching his breath. “We’ve just received word, Excellency,” the Firebender said, straightening. “The first explosion we heard earlier damaged several buildings in the Kuzon Square Market. Three people were injured, including a child. No casualties. The fires were put out and kept from damaging any other property.”

Zuko grunted. “Good. Get our troops out of there and see if we can anticipate where the next explosion will be.”

The man hesitated. “Yes, well, you see, Your Majesty, um. _Our_ troops didn’t make it in time. By the time they got there, everything was already salvaged, and the child rescued.”

Zuko frowned. “The civilians, then? That was pretty risky of—”

The Imperial Firebender was shaking his head. “No, Your Majesty.” He hesitated again, and reverence crept into his voice. “It was the Avatar. The people say he saved everyone, all on his own.”

Behind them, the granary finally collapsed under its own, burning weight. It crashed to the ground. Sparks leaped and swirled into the air. The captain, soldiers, and Imperial Firebender all jumped back in alarm. Zuko just stood there, silhouetted by the fire, as if unaware of the building collapsing behind him.

“Then what are we standing around for?” Zuko demanded. He turned from the granary and strode in the direction of Kuzon Square. “Let’s go help the Avatar save our city.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://sagechan.tumblr.com  
> https://twitter.com/sagechantobiho
> 
> I guess I wanted to see Zuko and Aang work individually before they come together? Idk, you can probably read into the symbolism or just watch them throw rocks and play detective lol.


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